Page 41 of The Consigliere

He dips his lips to my ear and whispers, “You are beautiful, princess.”

“Thank you.” My breath hitches as he steps back and reaches inside his jacket and pulls out a velvet-covered box.

“Turn around.”

My heart flutters as his fingers slide around my neck and fasten a diamond choker that nestles against my skin like a branding iron.

He whispers close to my ear, “Now everyone will know you are mine.”

He spins me around, and the possession flashing in his eyes makes me almost pant with desire, and he says in his dark voice, “This collar tells everyone you are mine.”

“It’s only a necklace.” I finger it reverently, and he laughs softly. “To anybody who doesn’t realize its purpose.”

I’m confused, and he reaches out and presses his thumb against my lower lip, whispering huskily, “Anybody who knows how domination works will understand you are mine. They can look but not touch, and that gives you more protection because of what you’re wearing.”

“I never knew.”

I sense my eyes shining because who wouldn’t want to be marked by a man like Matteo and I shiver as he brushes his lips against mine and whispers, “I’m going to fuck you in that dress, and I haven’t decided where yet.”

His words light a trail of desire inside me at the mere promise of what he has in mind, and he laughs softly. “Do you like that, princess? Wondering where it will be? The car perhaps, possibly the venue itself. In the street, in the alley like a common whore, or back here in my dungeon. I wonder what it will be?”

Images of every place crash through my mind and I’m incredibly turned on as he reaches for my hand.

“Business first.” He winks, causing me to cross my legs because I would gladly sacrifice an evening in public for five more minutes on the terrace with him.

* * *

As expected,we don’t travel lightly, and the usual three cars are waiting in the underground car park.

Cesare makes certain we are safely in the middle before jumping into the one in front, several of his soldiers taking the one behind us. As the cars begin to move, I shake my head. “Is this really necessary? It’s all a little staged if you ask me.”

He shrugs. “It serves many purposes. A warning, protection and business.”

“Business?” I’m confused, and he nods, running his arm along the back of the seat and pulling me against him.

“My business is being better than everyone else, so they don’t challenge me. The Ortega empire has existed over several generations, and it hasn’t come easily. We have reached a place where we are respected and safe to a degree, but there is always a manipulative bastard waiting to snatch our crown.”

“Your stepmother.” I shiver when I think of her and Mario and Matteo nods. “They will be at the gala tonight. I thought I should warn you.”

I stiffen as my head spins with this information.

He growls, “Tonight they will discover you are mine. It will be interesting to watch their reaction to that.”

My earlier euphoria is in tatters as I contemplate meeting the gruesome twosome again, and then he makes it worse by saying casually, “Jefferson will also be there.”

“What?” I stare at him in shock, and he nods, obviously amused at something. “It will be good to catch up with old friends, won’t it, princess?”

“If you say so.” I stiffen at the thought of my past invading my present making me retreat into myself.

I’m surprised when a strong hand grips my chin and turns me to face two dark flashing eyes, the danger in them causing me to swallow hard.

“You are my wife, Abigail, and I expect you to act like it. Be proud of who you are and take no shit. You are Abigail Ortega now and not the pretty princess who does as mommy tells her. The apple of her daddy’s eye and a girl with no brain. You are a mafia bride and I expect you to own it. Make me proud to call you mine and take no shit from anyone.”

His words strike me deep because he’s right. I am no longer a Kensington. I’m an Ortega now and with a man like him beside me, nothing can ever touch me again.

I nod as his eyes flash deep into my soul and I say huskily, “I won’t let you down.”

He strokes my face in a surprisingly gentle move and whispers, “I’m proud to call you my wife, Abi. I want you to know that.”

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